


The Right One

by disorient_me



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Grocery Shopping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 11:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3066575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disorient_me/pseuds/disorient_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The right one isn't always the best one, or maybe it's the other way around--but sometimes overwhelming choices make it hard to figure out which is which to begin with.</p>
<p>Or: The one where Chuck discovers being an adult is a little harder than he thought.  Now with full daily serving of calcium.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right One

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing that you recognize; once again, blatantly ignoring the ending of the movie, but Chuck never died. There were escape pods, and we didn't see what happened immediately after Mako and Raleigh touched foreheads, and I firmly believe Chuck was found soon after.
> 
> Un-beta'd, so let me know if I missed anything.

~*~

There was no way in hell the decision should have been that hard. Right? People did it all the time, and none of _them_ took ages to figure it out—at least, he didn’t think they did. Did it take people forever to decide, or did they just grab things and go? How would they know what they wanted? How long had he been standing here?

Okay. Deep breath, exhale, try again. Heat began to climb the back of Chuck Hansen’s neck, but he resolutely ignored it in favor of focusing more closely on the task at hand. He refused to be daunted by bright colors and gimmicky pictures—except, wait, were those the information? What was he supposed to be looking for again? Picking out a bloody breakfast cereal shouldn’t be this hard, should it?

It had seemed innocent enough at first, just like most things Raleigh asked for. While Raleigh was gathering the rest of their supplies, he’d absently asked Chuck to go over and grab some cereal for breakfast. The two of them had come to Alaska ahead of Mako and Herc, eager to get a start on their leave from the PPDC, and Raleigh had been determined to get the grocery shopping out of the way. Chuck had grumbled, but even his misgivings hadn’t anticipated this.

_Sugar free!_ One box promised, while another boasted, _Full daily value of Calcium in every serving!_ One swore that fiber had never tasted so delicious, and yet another one seemed to indicate that it would help him lose clothing sizes if he ate it. Chuck had been dubious at first, but now he was just getting frustrated. How the hell was he supposed to pick one? Did the benefits matter, or did the flavor? Did the pricier items mean that they were better?

“Hey, did you get lost?” A voice asked, and Chuck jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder. Raleigh didn’t seem to notice, instead smirking as he inclined his head at the overflowing cart. “It’s not that—”

“ _Fuck_ you, Becket,” Chuck snapped. Rage flared, bright and hot in the center of his chest, jaw clenching hard enough his teeth ached. Spinning on his heel, he swiped at a box, knocking several to the ground as he threw a random pick into the cart. Without another word, he stormed out of the aisle, refusing to admit that more than just his pride was stung.

The entire store suddenly seemed oppressive despite its bright, clean atmosphere, and Chuck strode out of the store. It had seemed cheerful and comforting earlier, but now Chuck just wanted to get out of there. The confined space of the truck Becket had rustled up seemed almost welcoming; he was so used to close, cramped quarters in the Shatterdome, to never having so much open space, and even the Conn-Pod had been comfortingly cozy. Everything had been optimized and primed to fit into the least amount of space possible, and Chuck closed his eyes hard, trying to will himself to calm down. He exhaled through his nose, trying to prevent himself from just starting the truck and driving off to leave Raleigh to fend for himself.

By the time Raleigh finally emerged from the store, Chuck had managed to get himself under control. At least, he no longer felt like running Raleigh over in the parking lot, so he assumed that that was a good thing. Still, he let Raleigh load up their stuff into the bed, turning to face out the window as Raleigh climbed back in. He ignored Raleigh’s pointed gaze, instead forcing the other man to speak first.

“Any chance you wanna tell me what that was all about?” Raleigh finally asked, sounding wary. For some reason, it made Chuck feel _guilty,_ of all things, but he shoved that down deep.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said stiffly, and he could almost picture the way Becket’s mouth pressed into a thin, unimpressed line without even looking.

“Oh, so I was just imagining the grown man who threw a box of cereal into the cart hard enough it burst open,” Raleigh started conversationally. “He looked a lot like the man who knocked couple other boxes off the shelf, too.”

“Fuck off,” Chuck warned, feeling the flush creeping up his neck again. The fact that he’d made a bloody scene only made things worse, and he shifted to glare forward through the windshield.

“Chuck, come on,” Raleigh said, pleading and exasperated all at once. “What the hell was that all about?”

“Nothing, _Rah-_ leigh,” he snarled. “C’n we just _go?”_

“No,” Raleigh returned stubbornly. “Come on. You don’t act like a three year old most the time—”

“Oh, thanks, mate, care to fill my father in on that? He’d love to hear it—”

“Unless something pisses you off,” Raleigh continued over him. His voice was level and bordering on concerned, enough so to make Chuck shift uncomfortably.   Raleigh took a shallow breath, then offered a small smile. “What the hell did the cereal do to you?”

“Shut up, Becket,” Chuck sighed, closing his eyes again. It still surprised Chuck when Raleigh did that, got all soft and almost careful around the edges. Oh, sure, he still got riled and excitable about stupid things, like the image Chuck had held years ago of the younger Becket, but most of the time, he was… reflective, Chuck supposed. It was what made him and Mako get along so sickeningly well, he guessed, but Chuck had no idea what to do with all that. He wasn’t sure he liked someone reflecting on or about him; it had always been pretty damn straightforward, what people wanted from him, what they expected from him, and he’d been only too glad to give it to them. With Raleigh, though, Chuck wasn’t sure. After their initial enmity, they’d gotten on a lot better, but Raleigh looked like he expected something _else,_ too.

“I picked a different box, since, uh, the other one was… no good,” Raleigh finally offered awkwardly. “You wanted the Apple Jacks, right?”

“How the hell should I know?” Chuck muttered, suddenly feeling tired. Raleigh made a confused little sound, and Chuck shook his head in disgust. “Think about it, asshole. Not like they offer a variety of brekkie in the mess, yeah? Who the fuck needs all those kinds of cereals, anyway?”

“What?” Becket asked again, and Chuck growled.

“Forget it, never mind,” he snapped. Raleigh made an aborted gesture, like he was going to reach out and touch him, and Chuck yanked away before he could. He didn’t need Becket to coddle him or whatever.

“Chuck, you—” Raleigh started, then shook his head. He swallowed something that sounded suspiciously like laughter, and Chuck lunged for the door handle. Before he could escape, Raleigh grabbed him. Chuck rammed an elbow straight back, but Raleigh was ready. In a few embarrassing seconds, Raleigh had him pinned against the door, seatbelt buckle digging into the back of his neck as Raleigh immobilized him against the doorjam.

“Get off,” he hissed, and Raleigh huffed into the side of his head. The other man had somehow crossed the center seat, pinning Chuck uncomfortably close. He squirmed half-heartedly, then slumped and flashed the hand sign for a yield.

“Not until you talk to me, kid,” Raleigh said. He did release Chuck, however, settling in at his side. Chuck leaned further into the door, but Becket didn’t even do him the courtesy of looking awkward about being close enough to share body heat. The insides of the windows were starting to fog up, and Chuck huffed.

“So, Apple Jacks are pretty good, though,” Raleigh said, as if that had even been a conversation that they were having. Chuck refused to look at him, and Raleigh just smiled at him. “I used to love those as a kid. Yancy always liked the Froot Loops, though—”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Chuck muttered. “Shatterdome mess had it right, y’know; one kind of cereal fits all, more important things to worry about ‘n all. Besides, how the hell are you supposed to decide between a full day’s supply of calcium or Vitamin D or frosted this or now with extra berries? Who the hell needs that many kinds? How d’you know what’s the right one?”

“What?” Raleigh asked again, and Chuck sighed. Just his luck to be stuck in the middle of nowhere in fucking Alaska of all places with a daffy whacker who just—

“Oh, shit,” Raleigh blurted out. He was gone before Chuck could react, scooting awkwardly across the bench and out the door. Chuck felt cold now, chilly air rushing into the gap all along where Raleigh had been a second before. “Hold that thought. I forgot the milk.”

“Bloody hell,” he grumbled, dropping his head back. He yelled at the window, “How the hell do you forget _milk?_ ”

Raleigh hurried back into the store, and Chuck just sighed again. Objectively, he knew it was stupid to get angry over something so trivial; honestly, the only reason he’d even admitted what it was to Becket was that Becket wasn’t his old man. Herc would have just snapped and snarled at him, feeding into the anger until they’d come to blows—and Chuck would have thrown venom right back, because honestly, who’s fault was it that he’d essentially grown up in the Shatterdome?

Swallowing past the rage, Chuck huffed. The window fogged with his breath, and he grimaced and swiped at it. Things had gotten better between him and his father, they _had,_ and yet… a goddamn box of cereal had shown him just how out of place he was in a normal person’s world. While he’d swallowed down flavorless nutrient-laden muck and saved the goddamn world, they had all picked and chosen between cereal as if it were the easiest thing in the world. How could they know what was the right one if someone didn’t tell them?

Or were they all the right one?

Groaning, Chuck dropped his forehead against the glass. The condensation felt good, and he lost track of time until he heard a cart approaching across the pavement. Swiping at the glass again, he smeared the fog with his coat sleeve until he could make out Raleigh, pushing another cart. He frowned, then opened the door.

“Oi, what the hell is that?” He called out, brow furrowing. There were several more bags in Raleigh’s cart, but the other man hurried up to push it around the other side of the truck before he could see it. “Thought you just went back in for milk. Milk doesn’t come in boxes here, does it?”

He rounded the truck, reaching for one of the bags as Raleigh began placing them into the back with the others. Raleigh just glanced at him, an odd little smile lurking around his lips, and Chuck frowned. He snagged the edge of one of the bags, freezing as he registered the boxes inside.

“Raleigh, what the fuck?” He asked, stunned. Quickly, he reached out, rifling through several of the other bags, only to find the same thing—each bag held several brightly colored boxes of cereal, all different kinds. As far as he could see, there were no two identical boxes, and Chuck stared up at Raleigh in shock. Raleigh just smiled smugly, his eyes holding that fierce, determined light that made Chuck’s insides twist.

“You’re right,” Raleigh said simply. With a little shrug, he offered a sincere smile. “How do you know the right one if you haven’t tried ‘em all?”

“What?” Chuck asked numbly, and Raleigh’s smile grew wider. He tucked the last of the bags away, then leaned on the cart with that smirk, holding Chuck’s incredulous gaze easily.

“We’re going to try them all,” he said, very determined. “Okay? I mean, how else are you supposed to pick what one you like best?”

“Like… best,” Chuck repeated, and Raleigh nodded.

“There’s not a ‘right’ cereal, okay? So, it’s about what one you like best,” he explained. “I guess I didn’t think about that; I got so used to rationing on the Wall and in the PPDC that I forgot that the real world has… this.”

“Too many damn kinds for their own good,” Chuck grumbled. His skin felt hot for some reason, and he looked away from Raleigh’s bright, enthusiastic smile.

“Yeah, but that’s what’s good about it,” he said. “We get to find what we like and stick with it. Might not always be easy, but we’ll get there.”

Chuck had the distinct feeling he’d missed something in the conversation. He fidgeted, but Raleigh was moving again. He gently pushed past Chuck to return the cart, gripping Chuck’s shoulder briefly as he passed. Still unable to figure it out, he gaped again at the surplus of new bags in the back of the truck, then shook his head. Trust Becket to get stuck on a simple statement and make it into a mission, what the fuck?

“Come on, Chuck,” Raleigh called, and he flipped him a rude gesture. “Coming?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, then shook his head. “Seriously, though?”

“What?” Raleigh asked defensively. “’S just some cereal.”

“Mate, you bought the whole damn aisle,” Chuck retorted. Raleigh looked wounded as he climbed into the truck, and Chuck joined him.

“Seemed like a good idea,” he mumbled, and Chuck flinched. The idea that Becket had done that for him felt weird, but… not entirely in a bad way. He thought he’d gotten used to Raleigh’s quirky little thoughtful gestures over the last year, but then again… Raleigh Becket lived to be unpredictable. He sighed, cuffing Raleigh’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” he mumbled back awkwardly. “’S just… that’s a lot of cereal.”

“Yeah,” Raleigh said—then flinched. “Uh, we’re going to be eating a lot of that. Herc might not be too happy with cereal at every meal.”

Chuck snorted, the image of Herc choking down brightly colored multi-grain whatevers absurd even in his mind. Before he could help it, he was laughing, and Raleigh just looked lost. And maybe a little worried. Whatever, then.

“Can’t believe you bought every kind of cereal in there,” he managed, and Raleigh looked wounded. That look wasn’t the one Chuck was shooting for, however, and he managed to get himself under control. “Nah, c’mon, don’t look like that. Just not sure how you’re going to explain this to Mako.”

Raleigh’s eyes widened, and Chuck flashed him a grin. It felt easy, especially as Raleigh suppressed a pleased little smile of his own. Chuck just grinned, soaking in the warmth in his chest from Raleigh’s smile, and thought idly, _Yeah, I think I like that one best._

~*~

**Author's Note:**

> This came about as I stared at the selection of bread in the grocery store last night, oddly enough--as an adult, it's hard enough for me to know what kind of bread to get. I can only imagine how angry and confused Chuck would get while faced with the same variety of choices, and so... this happened.
> 
> It's been eons since I've written and posted fanfic--please, drop a line and let me know if you liked it. Concrit and feedback are loved and adored :) Did I do the characters justice?


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